Burn it. [MAIRE faints.
Now she has swooned, our faces go unscratched;
Bring me the gray hen, too.
The SECOND MERCHANT goes out through the door and returns with the hen strangled. He flings it on the floor. While he is away the FIRST MERCHANT makes up the fire. The FIRST MERCHANT then fetches the pan of milk from the pantry, and spills it on the ground. He returns, and brings out the wolf, and throws it down by the hen.
These need much burning.
This stool and this chair here will make good fuel.
[He begins breaking the chair.
My master will break up the sun and moon
And quench the stars in the ancestral night